


Born for Adversity

by JJJunky



Category: Simon and Simon (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-03
Updated: 2011-09-03
Packaged: 2017-10-23 09:42:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/248921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJJunky/pseuds/JJJunky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The bond between the brothers may cost too much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Born for Adversity

Born for Adversity  
By JJJunky

 

Shifting into park, Rick glanced over at his brother. The pale face still looked drawn. Bloodshot eyes stared straight ahead, seeming not to have noticed that they'd arrived at their destination. Amanda McCay's desertion had turned a vital healthy man into a porcelain figurine: easy to break, difficult to repair. Turning off the engine, Rick gently observed, "We're here, AJ."

Lifeless eyes slowly focused on the Yosemite Ranger Station. "I've changed my mind, Rick. Let's go home."

"Come on, Kid," Rick gently wheedled. "You always wanted to hike the John Muir Trail. This is your chance."

There was no anger in his voice, only pain, when AJ protested, "I don't feel like it."

"I know," Rick sympathized. "But it's just what you need right now."

The handsome face looked stricken. "You can't give me what I need."

Rick's hand gently kneaded the muscular shoulder, "Amanda's gone, AJ. You gotta start livin' again. What better way to do it than to fulfill a dream?"

"It won't help."

"It won't hurt," Rick countered, feeling the tension beneath his hand. "Please, AJ, if you can't do it for yourself, do it for me and Mom."

"You and Mom?"

"Do you think you're the only one being affected by this depression of yours?"

Surprised blue eyes locked with aqua-marine, really seeing them for the first time in weeks, "I'm sorry."

"I know you are," Rick contritely acknowledged. "But it doesn't make it any easier to watch you crumble before our eyes and know there's nothing we can do. We love you AJ. All we want is to see you smile again."

The confused gaze shifted to stare at the mock log building. "I guess we should register and get the maps."

"Now you're talkin'," Rick happily agreed, slapping his brother's arm.

The Ranger Station was almost empty this late in the season. While AJ studied the bulletin board, Rick checked in, explaining their intentions and receiving instructions and advice. It would take over a month to hike the 212-mile long trail. Safety was the primary concern - even over enjoyment.

Sliding the maps into a pocket of his jacket, Rick crossed to stand beside his brother. A quick glance played over the photographs of two men, fugitives from the local prison. Beside them was a poster warning about a disease transmitted by animals. Neither alert scared Rick. Prison escapes were not uncommon in this region. In fact, it was an all too frequent occurrence that suggested either the prison needed to be fortified or the guards replaced.

The plague bulletin was familiar to anyone who lived in California, Arizona or New Mexico. Common sense was all they needed to avoid it. They simply had to steer clear of strays.

Turning away from the gloomy notices, Rick enthusiastically enjoined, "Let's go Little Brother." He was certain that the new surroundings would lift the cloud that hung over the blonde head. "Time to show me what you can do."

* * * *

Rick pulled into the Happy Isle parking lot where he intended to leave the truck. Town and one of his cousins had promised to drive up over the weekend and take it to Mt. Whitney, the southern terminus of the trail. Rick smiled. Their friend would've agreed to anything to get them out of his hair for a while. At least, that's what he'd said. The older Simon wasn't fooled. Town had missed the smile on AJ's face as much as his family.

"Stop daydreaming, Rick," AJ called, lowering the tailgate so he could reach their backpacks. "Time's a wastin'."

They double checked their packs before slipping them on their shoulders. They planned to meet friends of AJ's, who were traveling with pack mules, at the Mono Creek Crossing and replenish their food supplies. Until then, their lives depended on the essentials contained in the fifty pound packs on their backs.

His shoulders already protesting the treatment, Rick followed his brother to the path leading to Vernal and Nevada Falls. About fifteen miles and up almost 9500 feet, lay Sunrise Camp where they would spend the night. The camp was one of only two places on the trail where they would find food and accommodation. The second was in Tuolumne Meadows eleven miles further on. Here, they'd spend their second night. After that, they'd have to rely on their tent and each other.

As Rick viewed the first hurdle, he began to think maybe he'd made a mistake in suggesting this trip. It certainly wouldn't help AJ's depression if his brother died of over exertion. At the top of the first hill, Rick leaned against an accommodating tree and tried to draw a deep breath. Less than a quarter of a mile and ten minutes into the hike and he already felt like his lungs were going to burst.

Apparently unaffected, AJ continued to the next incline. Suddenly realizing his brother wasn't beside him, he turned, "Are you all right, Rick?"

"Fine," Rick panted, forcing himself away from the tree. "This is great isn't it?"

A partial smile curved AJ's lips as he conceded, "I think you were right. This is exactly what I needed."

The words acted as a tonic on Rick's soul. Even the burning in his lungs seemed to diminish as he trudged on. This section of the trail was normally crawling with tourists. So late in the season, however, the route was almost deserted. Personally, Rick couldn't understand why anyone would actually want to climb the trail. No view could be worth this torture.

The path eventually leveled out becoming easier. Crossing a wooden bridge that forded a swiftly flowing river, they stopped to get their first glimpse of Vernal Falls. While it was pretty, Rick decided he'd been correct in his assessment. It wasn't worth the effort.

On the other side of the bridge, they found public toilets and a water fountain. Though they hadn't been out long, they decided to take advantage of both. It would be awhile before they encountered such amenities again.

Rejuvenated by the short respite, Rick found the next section enjoyable. It wasn't peppered with the roller-coaster assents and descents that had characterized the previous terrain. Softly rolling knolls were intermittently scattered between straight stretches that ran along the river.

Rick had just decided that Vernal Falls really was beautiful after all when they rounded a hill, and he viewed the last hurdle to the top of the waterfall. Uneven steps, ranging in height from a couple of inches to a couple of feet, climbed up the steep hillside. Wet from the misting water of the falls, they looked dangerous and formidable. "Isn't there another way, AJ?" he anxiously demanded.

"Yeah," AJ replied, looking at one of the maps Rick had gotten at the Ranger Station. "But we'd miss seeing the top of Vernal Falls and the Emerald Pool."

"I can live with that."

"Come on, Rick," AJ coaxed, starting up the daunting staircase. "It'll be over before you know it."

Glancing over the unprotected cliff to the churning water below, Rick muttered, "That's what I'm afraid of."

Despite his misgivings, Rick unhappily followed his brother. Faceless hikers passed by him narrowing the path. He was only able to go a few steps before stopping to catch his breath.

"If you quit smoking those foul cigars, you wouldn't be having so much trouble," AJ pointed out, impatiently waiting for his brother to catch up.

"Thank you for your diagnose Dr. Simon," panted Rick. He put his hands on his knees to support his weary body. "Why don't you go ahead? I'll meet you at the top."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," Rick fervently assured.

"Be careful," AJ warned, turning to resume the climb. "These steps are slippery."

Rick disgustedly eyed the retreating figure. "No shit!"

Despite his annoyance, Rick had to admire his brother's athletic ability. He wasn't even breathing hard.

At mid-point in his climb, Rick stopped to rest for the umpteenth time. His eyes automatically sought the light blue jacket his brother was wearing. He finally found it at the bottom of the last flight of stairs, the only section of the steep assent with a safety rail. AJ had turned to confront a man who had come up behind him. After exchanging a few words, AJ moved aside gesturing for the other hiker to go ahead. Sun glinted on a metal object in the stranger's hand. Rick didn't need to be closer to recognize the shape of a gun. Exhaustion disappearing like a morning fog, he carelessly scrambled up the uneven stones. His abused body couldn't keep up with his agitated emotions. He misjudged a step, causing him to slip. The left side of his body hung over the jagged cliff. Blood streamed from the fingers of his right hand as they desperately clung to a protruding rock. A rubber soled shoe scrambled for a grip on the rocky ledge. His panic diminished when it finally found one. By the time Rick had pulled himself to safety, AJ and his kidnapper had disappeared.

* * * *

AJ knew better than to resist a nervous man with a gun. He allowed himself to be pushed up the remainder of the trail. Instead of continuing straight to the top of the falls, the deadly weapon in his back nudged him to the right. Finding it difficult without the use of his hands, he cautiously traversed the huge boulders that lined the river feeding Vernal Falls.

A sign prohibited swimming due to strong undercurrents that could pull a swimmer over the falls. Despite the cool air, and the warning, people played in the Emerald Pool. AJ decided they must be thrill seekers who enjoyed risking their lives - or they couldn't read.

Taking a deep breath to give himself courage, he obeyed the silent instructions and waded into the pool. When he was forced to immerse his body, the cold water and the pack on his back conspired to defeat him. He could feel the undercurrents tugging at his legs. With his abductor also fighting to keep afloat, AJ knew there was a chance he could escape. He also knew it was dangerous to try. Right now, he'd rather take his chances with the gun than with the waterfall.

Exhausted from fighting the current, he was relieved when his fingers finally scraped along the rough edges of a boulder. Wrapping his arms around it, he allowed himself a short rest before stumbling up the bank to firm ground. He wasn't surprised to find his companion already there with a dry gun aimed at his head.

"Now what?" AJ demanded, shivering as the cool breeze blew against his wet clothes.

Silence greeted his question. The only response was the free hand waving him on into the trees. Visualizing the map, AJ saw they were heading toward Nevada Falls and Little Yosemite Valley. What he couldn't figure out was why.

The unmarked path kept them ascending. It wasn't long before AJ found it difficult to catch his breath. Partially due to the elevation, the rest to exertion. In the shade of the trees, his clothes weren't drying. Wet pants chaffed against his legs, making each uncomfortable step a chore.

To get his mind off his distress, he tried to remember the details he'd gleaned from the wanted posters at the Ranger Station. The fugitives were brothers. It was this relationship that had initially caught AJ's attention. Only ten months separated the two boys. They looked and acted like twins. Randy and Ronnie Collier were tall and lanky with reddish brown hair and green eyes. A botched robbery of a liquor store in which they'd killed the fifty-two year old owner had gotten them sentenced to twenty-five years in prison. This is what puzzled AJ. If the man behind him was a murderer, why was he so uneasy with the gun?

"Help him!"

The command was so unexpected, AJ stumbled. Regaining his balance, his gaze rested briefly his companion before following the pointing finger to the body hidden between the rocks and bushes.

"You're a doctor. Help him."

As AJ shrugged out of his pack, he wondered where the other man had gotten the idea he was a doctor. Kneeling next to his 'patient', he suddenly remembered Rick's facetious answer to his suggestion that the elder Simon give up smoking. "This is another fine mess you've gotten me into, Rick," he softly muttered.

The gun wavered as it targeted AJ's head. "What did you say?"

"I was just commenting on how much trouble an off-hand remark can get you into."

"Stop screwing around," the fugitive screamed, "and help Ronnie."

Having the identity of his kidnappers confirmed didn't ease AJ's concern. The Collier brothers had been incarcerated for murder. The law no longer distinguished between who actually fired the gun and who was an accomplice to the crime. Both were equally guilty - and equally dangerous.

A cursory inspection of the barely conscious man revealed a high fever and a severe cough. "Without the proper equipment," AJ said, deciding it was safer to pretend he had a medical degree, "I can't tell exactly what's wrong. It could be anything from the flu to pneumonia."

"Can't you give him some medicine?" Randy demanded.

AJ honestly replied, "I don't have my bag with me."

"I thought all doctors carried a medical bag. Even when they're on vacation."

"I don't."

Looking lost and defeated, Randy dropped to the ground. It was as though his legs could no longer support his body. "What do I do now?"

"Give yourself up," AJ suggested. "Get your brother some help."

"They'll put us back in prison."

"That's generally where you go when you kill someone."

"I didn't!" Randy threateningly raised the gun. The hand shook. Finally lowering it to his lap, he revealed, "I'm no murderer. The gun isn't even loaded. We escaped from prison to prove we were innocent."

Pouring water from his canteen onto a clean sock from his pack, AJ laid it across the hot forehead of his patient. "Running only makes you look guilty."

"Even if we were running home to San Francisco?"

"They would just say you were stupid."

"We're not stupid," Randy angrily denied. Tears formed at the corners of the green eyes. "I couldn't stay in that place any longer. I'd rather die than go back there."

The sincerity of the desire was clear. Wondering if the boys might be innocent after all, AJ applied more cool water to the makeshift compress. A torn and bruised hand tried to push it away. Another memory slipped into AJ's mind and squeezed his heart. "What happened to Ronnie's hand?"

"A squirrel got itself caught in one of those plastic six-pack holders and managed to cut off its leg trying to get free," Randy angrily explained. "Ronnie loves animals. He couldn't stand to see it suffering. It was bleeding to death anyway. It bit him when he picked it up. He broke it's neck to put it out of its misery. Then, he buried it."

There was no longer any doubt. Their lives depended on AJ's persuasive skills. "Randy, your brother has bubonic plague."

"I thought you couldn't tell what was wrong?" Suspicious eyes narrowed as they regarded the prisoner.

"I couldn't," AJ agreed, "until I found out he'd been bitten."

Anger clearly audible in his voice, Randy snapped, "You think I'm stupid! I know that plague is caused by rats."

"Only partially," AJ corrected. Glad that he had read the notice, he recited, "Plague bacteria circulates mainly among wild rodents. It's spread by fleas that can infect rats and even humans when the host dies and a new host is needed."

"You think Ronnie caught the plague from that squirrel?"

"It's possible." AJ amended, "Its also possible the squirrel had rabies. Either one will kill him unless he gets help."

"If we go back, we'll never get a chance to prove our innocence."

"If we don't get medical attention soon, we could all die if it's the Plague," AJ forcefully asserted. "Then you'll never get a chance to clear your name."

Randy rose. Pacing he demanded, "How do I know I can trust you? You don't seem like much of a doctor."

"That's because I'm not." Slowly rising, AJ pulled out his wallet and opened it to his Private Investigator's license.

"You're a private dick?" Slapping his leg with the back of his hand, Randy swore, "I can't even kidnap the right guy."

AJ stood in front of the agitated younger man. "Listen to me. My brother and I run a detective agency in San Diego. We're professionals. We know where to look for information. If you surrender, I promise we'll take your case. If you're innocent, we can prove it."

"I guess I've got nothing to lose," Randy unhappily conceded.

"Only your life."

* * * *

Though his legs protested every stride, Rick couldn't stop pacing. Despite the Rangers efficiency at organizing the search parties, his concern for his brother hadn't diminished. When he'd asked to join a rescue team, he'd been kindly, but firmly refused. As the lead ranger, Brad Lewis had pointed out, Rick would be more of a hindrance than a help.

One of Rick's main concerns was how much longer they could keep the identity of the hostage from the press. He'd put off calling his mother hoping to keep her from worrying. However, he knew he'd be in hot water if she found out about AJ's abduction from the TV and not from him. It was a fine line he was walking.

The radio, that had been painfully silent, suddenly crackled to life. "Sunrise Camp to base, come in base."

"Go ahead, Sunrise," Brad Lewis instructed.

"We need a quarantine helicopter up here. The fugitives want to give themselves up."

"Roger, Sunrise," Brad replied, smiling at Rick.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Rick asked, "How's my brother?"

"Sunrise," Brad called, "What is the status of the hostage?"

"He looks fine, base. He suspects, and we concur, that they have been exposed to bubonic plague."

Rick's heart twisted. Dropping onto a bench, he buried his head in his hands. Mental pictures of his brother played across his mind. The tiny baby who had won his allegiance with a smile. The adoring ten-year-old, who'd followed his teenage brother every where - even into a x-rated movie. The college graduate, whose pride at his accomplishment conflicted with his guilt as his eyes rested on the Vietnam veteran in the back row.

A hand on his shoulder pulled Rick back to a world he no longer wanted to be part of. It was a world without AJ.

"They'll be taking your brother to San Francisco Memorial, Rick," Lewis explained. "Do you want me to get someone to drive you there?"

"No," Rick shook his head and rose to his feet. "I'll drive myself."

The Ranger thoughtfully regarded the other man before handing him a sheet of paper. "I thought you might say that. Here are the directions."

"Thanks," Rick studied the note before stuffing it into a pocket of his jacket.

"Just drive carefully," Lewis warned, following Rick out to the truck. "You won't help your brother if you get yourself killed."

* * * *

Rick turned into the hospital parking lot. Unconcerned with what restrictions might apply to it, he pulled into the first empty space. Switching off the engine, he rested his head against the steering wheel in an attempt to calm jangled nerves. He shivered when he realized he couldn't remember much of the long drive that had brought him to San Francisco Memorial Hospital. Had he stopped at stop signs and red lights? Logic told him it was too late to worry about it now.

The only part of his brain that wasn't occupied with his concern for AJ replayed his desperate journey. He remembered stopping at a gas station to fill up, though he couldn't say where it had been. At the same time, he'd called his mother and Town and told them what had happened. It helped knowing his friend was escorting his mother to the airport for a flight to San Francisco. They'd been blessed when their paths had crossed Downtown Brown's.

After buying the largest cup of coffee the station sold and a bottle of NoDoz, Rick had pulled back onto the highway. From then on his mind was blank. It was as though an unseen force had guided him safely down the unfamiliar roads. There was no other explanation.

Rubbing his eyes, he stepped from the truck and followed the signs to the Admissions desk. A sympathetic attendant gave him directions to the isolation ward. As he waited impatiently for an elevator, he decided it must be the slowest ever designed - which made a lot of sense in a building where minutes could be the difference between life and death.

He had just decided to walk the six flights - even though his legs already felt like they'd run a marathon - when the elevator arrived. Piling on with other eager passengers, Rick was dismayed to see that they would be stopping on every floor. After working overtime on the drive to the hospital, it looked as though his Guardian Angel had taken a break.

Finally reaching his destination, Rick was further thwarted by a burly male nurse who blocked the entrance to the ward. It was obvious that he'd been notified of Rick's imminent arrival.

"Dr. Hodges would like to talk to you before you see your brother, Mr. Simon."

"Too bad," Rick ungraciously replied, rounding the desk and preparing to enter the ward.

Moving quickly for his size, the nurse put a hand out to halt the determined man. "Dr. Hodges is waiting for you in his office," the nurse politely informed him, pointing to a door to their right.

"I don't want to see Dr. Hodges. I want to see my brother!"

Hands on hips, the nurse said, "It would be a lot easier on both of us if you saw Dr. Hodges first."

"All right," Rick bitterly conceded. "Not that I couldn't take you," he warned, backing away.

"You could probably do it with one hand tied behind your back," the larger man diplomatically replied.

A tired smile curving his lips, Rick shook his head, "Not on my best day."

"The Doctor is waiting," the nurse gently reminded, returning the smile.

As he approached the non-descript door, Rick's irritation disappeared. It was replaced by a fear that squeezed his heart, making it difficult to breathe. He barely had the strength to lift his hand to knock on the door before entering.

The large office was sumptuous without being ostentatious. A short, middle-aged man with thinning hair, rose from behind the desk and held out his hand, "Mr. Simon, I'm Dr. Hodges. I'm in charge of your brother's case."

Rick was surprised at how weak his grip was as he shook the other man's hand. Desperation tinged his voice, "I want to see AJ."

"I understand your concern, Mr. Simon," Hodges placated. Returning to his seat, he indicated that Rick should take a seat.

"I don't think you do," Rick softly whispered, his knees giving out so that he almost fell into the chair.

"Your brother asked me to talk to you before you saw him. He wants me to explain his condition to you, just as I did for him."

Gripping the arms of the chair with shaking hands, Rick said, "Then he was right. It is bubonic plague."

"Technically it's not," Hodges corrected, folding his hands. "The most common plague is called bubonic. It's characterized by shivering, fever and severe headaches. Buboes appear usually in the groin area. The victim often has seizures and occasionally septicemia."

Rick's breathing eased as hope invaded his soul, "You're saying AJ doesn't have bubonic plague?"

"No, he has pneumonic plague. Within two to five days, he'll experience severe coughing that will produce bloody phlegm. His breathing will become labored requiring mechanical assistance."

As each symptom was outlined, Rick's grip tightened until his knuckles turned white, "Are you saying AJ is going to die?"

"With this form of plague death is almost inevitable unless the disease is diagnosed and treated early."

"Did you catch it in time?" Rick was surprised that he could speak past the lump in his throat.

"In AJ's case, we believe we have," Hodges cautiously admitted. "With a regimen of antibiotics we feel we have a good chance."

"He's allergic to penicillin," Rick hastily revealed.

"He told us," Hodges soothed. "This disease needs something stronger anyway. We've started him on streptomycin. We'll keep a close eye to see if he has a reaction. However, you should know the drug has some severe side effects of its own. It can damage nerves in the inner ear which will, of course, affect his balance. It may also cause dizziness, deafness, numbness in his face, tingling in his hands, headaches, nausea and vomiting."

"Is that all?" Rick facetiously muttered.

"Your brother's in for a rough time, Mr. Simon," Hodges gently observed. "I believe he has the strength to pull through. Do whatever you can to ease his suffering."

"I'd switch places with him if I could," Rick sincerely returned.

Rising, Hodges offered, "Let's go see him, shall we?" As he led the way from his office, the doctor explained, "AJ's in an isolation room. He's still mobile so you'll be able to talk to him through a speaker phone. Once he becomes bed-ridden, that will become impossible."

"Can't I put on a gown or something and go to him?"

"I'm afraid not. You'd be endangering your life as well as your brother's. In his condition, he won't have the strength to fight any further infections."

"What about you and the nurses?" Rick jealously demanded.

"We can't very well leave him unattended," Hodges logically pointed out. "Don't worry, we take every precaution to ensure AJ's safety as well as our own."

As they passed the male nurse, Rick's whole being focused on the realization that he was finally going to see his brother - even if it was through a window. He absently followed the doctor into the ward. On his left were rooms with the standard paraphernalia. The main difference between these rooms and a regular hospital room, were the picture windows that allowed family and staff constant visual access to the patient. Benches lined the entire length of the hallway on the right.

The first two rooms were occupied. A young man with reddish brown hair paced restlessly in the first one. Rick realized he must be one of the Collier brothers. A lump in the bed in the next room was the only indication that it was occupied. Lights flashed on machines giving readings that Rick couldn't decipher. It wasn't until they reached the third room that Rick finally found the face he'd been seeking. AJ looked a little pale, but otherwise unchanged from the man who'd effortlessly climbed the difficult trail to Vernal Falls.

Pressing the button on the speaker phone that would allow them to converse, Rick asked, "How ya feelin' AJ?"

"Not bad so far." Nodding at the short man at his brother's side, AJ probed, "Did you talk to the Doc?"

"Yeah."

"I'm going to be all right, Rick."

"I know," Rick said, though there was no conviction in his voice. He barely noticed the Doctor turning away and retracing his steps.

Finally alone, blue eyes bore into aqua-marine, "I want you to do something for me, Rick."

"Anything," Rick readily agreed.

"It may be the hardest thing I've ever asked you to do," AJ warned. "I want you to keep a promise I made."

Impatient, Rick directed, "Just spit it out."

"I want you to investigate the incident that put the Collier brothers in jail."

"No!" Rick exploded, backing away. "It's because of them you're in here."

"I made a promise, Rick," AJ pleaded. "I told Randy that if he turned himself in, we'd prove his innocence."

"What if he's guilty?"

"I told him we'd prove that, too."

Remembering the doctor's suggestion that he do whatever he could to ease his brother's suffering, Rick soothed, "When you're better, then I'll look into the case."

"No," AJ vigorously shook his head. The action produced a fit of coughing that eventually left blood on the sleeve of his hospital gown. "Please, Rick, you have to do it now. I know Ronnie isn't going to make it. Randy's chances aren't much better."

"If they don't make it, then I won't have wasted my time."

"Would you like to die knowing that people think you're a murderer?"

Put in those terms, Rick understood the desperate plea. In similar circumstances he'd feel the same, especially if AJ was accused. "All right," he yielded. A bright smile, something Rick hadn't seen in months, rewarded his decision.

"Thanks." A blood stained hand rested briefly on the glass before wearily returning to its original position. "You better go."

"Not until Mom gets here."

"I'll be fine."

Rick stubbornly stood his ground, "I'm not leaving you alone."

"You never have before," AJ softly acknowledged. "You won't be now."

Tears stung Rick's eyes. He yearned to touch his brother. All he had to do was step through a door and he would be with him. He could hold his hand and give him comfort and encouragement as the disease progressed. It mattered little that he could contract it himself.

"Rick?"

His mother's voice pulled Rick back. He couldn't leave her to suffer alone. AJ would never forgive him. "Mom." He opened his arms and wrapped them around the thin shoulders. Resting his chin on her head, he whispered, "I'm sorry."

A tiny, but strong, hand pushed against his chest, "You have nothing to apologize for Rick Simon."

"This whole trip was my idea."

"You couldn't foresee what would happen." Turning to her younger son, Cecelia put a hand on the glass.

Laying his own in the same spot, AJ encouraged, "I'll be all right, Mom."

"I know you will, dear." Tears filled her eyes even as she managed a bright smile.

Though his gaze was fixed on his mother, AJ's words were for his brother, "You can go now, Rick."

"Go?" Cecelia demanded, searching the face of first one son then the other. "Go where?"

"I have a case," Rick explained.

"A case?" The shocked mother backed away. "You're leaving your brother's sick bed for money?"

AJ gently pounded on the glass to attract her attention. "Mom, don't blame Rick. I asked him to take it. He's keeping a promise I made." Guilt lending his pale face some color, he explained where Rick was going and why.

Contrite, Cecelia laid a hand on her older son's arm, "I should never have doubted you."

"You were upset," Rick soothed, stating the obvious.

Her eyes straying to the motionless figure in the room next door, Cecelia observed, "AJ's right Rick, you better go. There isn't much time. Town came with me, but they wouldn't let him in since he's not a member of the family. I'm sure he'll be happy to help."

"Why didn't you just say he's my brother?" AJ smiled at the shocked reaction his suggestion caused.

"Andrew Jackson Simon, do I look like a liar to you?"

"It's only a question of semantics, isn't it?" AJ teased.

Even as he drank in the sight of an apparently healthy brother, Rick couldn't miss the signs that indicated otherwise. The blood-stained gown and the exhaustion that lurked behind the dull blue eyes. The hand resting against the glass helping him to keep his balance. Rick didn't want to leave. He was afraid of what he might find when he returned.

* * * *

Rick rubbed his eyes and hit the rewind button on the VCR. Sleep was a distant memory. He wasn't the only one suffering. Town and the two officers assigned to assist them also sported bloodshot eyes and stiff necks.

He'd been rather surprised that the San Francisco Police Department had been so cooperative. After Town had identified himself and relayed their request to review the records pertaining to the Collier case, the Captain had gone further. He'd immediately pulled the two detectives who'd originally probed the incident and ordered them to officially re-open the investigation.

Detective Blaine had been happy to comply. Tall with long black hair braided into a French knot, she immediately confessed that she'd been upset with the verdict. The case should never have gone to trial with the circumstantial evidence they'd provided. The security camera tape was their only witness. It had shown a general description of the robbers and the license plate of the get-away car - Randy's car. The overworked inexperienced Public Defender who'd represented the brothers had been severely out-matched by the more dynamic State's Attorney. The Captain's co-operation showed that Blaine wasn't the only one with misgivings.

Her partner, on the hand, thought they were wasting their time. Her head only reaching Blaine's shoulder, Detective Delaney appeared younger than the gray in her short brown hair suggested.

The VCR clicked, indicating that the tape had completed rewinding. Rick automatically pressed the play button. He'd lost count of how many times they'd watched the recording of the robbery and murder that had put the Collier brothers behind bars.

"How many times are we going to watch this thing?" Delaney complained, slumping in her chair.

"Until we find something."

"What's to find? The Colliers are guilty."

"My brother doesn't think so."

"I wish he were here now instead of me."

Rick softly sighed, "So do I."

Looking up from the reports he was studying, Town suggested, "Maybe we should trade places? A change of scene might make for fresher minds."

"Good idea, Town," Rick readily agreed, never taking his eyes off the screen. "The next showing is all yours."

"Stop the tape!" Delaney ordered, straightening in her seat.

Though he was confused, Rick quickly complied.

"Rewind it."

Everyone on the tape moved backward a few steps.

"Now let it play." Delaney instructed, leaning forward. When they reached the section she was looking for, she flung out a hand, "Hold it."

Rick quickly hit the pause button. "What do you see?"

"The robber on the left. Look at his forearm. It looks like he has a tattoo."

"So?"

"Neither of the Collier brothers has a tattoo."

This revelation brought Town and Blaine over to view the picture. Though fuzzy and indistinct, something in the indicated area was definitely absorbing light.

"I think you're right, Rosemary," Blaine congratulated. "I wonder why no one ever caught that before?"

"No one else has been stupid enough to watch it fifty times."

Relief visible on his tired face, Rick asked, "Any chance we can get this blown up so we can see what the tattoo is?"

"We can try," Blaine agreed, copying down the meter number before taking the remote from Rick and stopping the tape. "Why don't you guys go get some sleep?" she suggested, pulling the tape from the machine. "It'll be morning before we get a print."

Pushing back his chair, Rick stiffly rose, "We'll be on the isolation ward at San Francisco Memorial. You can contact us there if you find anything."

* * * *

Cecelia was waiting for the nurse when the young black woman emerged from her son's room. "How's AJ?"

"You'll have to ask Dr. Hodges," the taller woman hedged, attempting to step around the diminutive obstacle.

A hand wrapped around a brown arm with a strength that belied the liver spots that dotted it. "I don't want to know in fifteen minutes. I want to know now!"

Her free hand nervously playing with the name tag on her shoulder, the nurse reluctantly disclosed, "His temperature's up to 105 and he's having trouble breathing. We'll have to put him in an oxygen tent."

"I want to be with him," Cecelia pleaded, releasing her grip and putting both hands on the glass that separated her from her youngest. "Can't you put me in the same uniform you wear when you're with him?"

"It would be an unnecessary risk for both of you." The voice softened before gently revealing, "He wouldn't even know you're there."

Tears crept down the wrinkled cheeks as the nurse slowly walked away. If it were only her own life that would be in peril, she'd be in that room in a minute - gown or no gown. It was only the danger to AJ that kept her away.

"I'm sorry."

A hand rested briefly on Cecelia's shoulder before pulling quickly away. Turning, she faced a lean young woman with reddish brown hair. Her resemblance to her sons was remarkable. "I'm the one who should be apologizing," Cecelia said, laying a comforting hand on a thin arm. "Both of your boys are sick."

"It's because of Randy's actions that your son became ill." Her voice rising almost hysterically, Mrs. Collier confessed, "I don't know what made him do such a thing. That's not the way I raised them."

Guiding the taller woman over to the bench, Cecelia urged her to sit. Holding a bony hand, she soothed, "Randy was worried about his little brother. I've seen how that kind of anxiety can rob a normally sane man of his senses. I have two boys of my own. AJ is five years younger than Rick, but that didn't prevent them from becoming best friends."

"Thank you for being so understanding." A weak smile shone through the tears.

"AJ doesn't blame Randy. How can I?"

The swoosh of the swinging doors drew both women's attention. Expecting to see Dr. Hodges, Cecelia was surprised to see Rick and Town.

Leaning down, Rick gave his mother a quick kiss on the cheek before crossing to the window that gave him the only access he had to his brother. "How's AJ?"

"His temperature's up to 105. They're preparing to put him in an oxygen tent to help him breathe," Cecelia whispered, joining her eldest son.

Rick put an arm around her shoulders before closing his eyes and leaning his head against the cool glass. "Come on AJ, fight."

"Have you had any luck with your investigation?" Cecelia asked, trying to pull the tormented man from his pain.

When it became clear that Rick wasn't going to answer his mother's question, Town revealed, "We may have a new lead."

"Mrs. Collier," Rick turned to the woman with a renewed urgency, "did you know your son's friends?"

"Most of them, I think."

"Did any of them have a tattoo on their right forearm?"

"No," the admission was hesitant. "I don't think so."

Cecelia saw the disappointment on her son's face and silently wept. She knew that Rick had wanted to solve the case quickly so he could ease AJ's concern before he became too sick to comprehend. She didn't have the heart to tell him it was already too late.

"Wait a minute," Mrs. Collier closed her eyes and gently tapped her lips with the tips of her fingers. "Their cousin, Frank has a tattoo. Some kind of fish, I think."

Town took out a notebook, "Is Frank's last name the same as yours?"

"No. He's my sister's boy. Her husband disappeared when Frank was only two. Their name is Dolan."

Barely containing the excitement he felt, Town asked, "Did your sons hang-around with their cousin?"

"No!" Mrs. Collier angrily shook her head. "I won't allow it. Frank's in a gang."

"Does he resemble your sons?"

"Oh yes, when they were little, people thought I'd had triplets." A reminiscent smile curved the thin lips. "I use to baby-sit him when my sister had to go to work to support them."

Even to inexperienced ears, there was a change in the background noise of the medical equipment inside one of the isolated rooms. Her heart in her throat, Cecelia grabbed Rick's arm for support as she fearfully gazed at the monitors attached to AJ's body. None of them appeared to show any significant change. Her sigh of relief was cut short by an anguished cry issuing from Mrs. Collier.

"No - o - o - o!"

Following the fixed gaze, Cecelia saw the flat line on the heart monitor leading from Ronnie's chest. Her stunned senses had barely grasped the impact of what this meant when the nurse lifted a sheet and covered the pale face.

Cecelia returned to the bench and put her arms around the distraught woman. She had no words of comfort. There were none for a mother who'd just lost a son. All she could do was offer a shoulder to cry on. It seemed pitifully insufficient.

She was aware that Rick and Town were leaving. She did nothing to stop them. There was nothing they could do here. Though outwardly she remained strong, inside her heart was aching. Would she be the next one to need a shoulder to cry on?

* * * *

AJ felt their fear. When it turned to terror, it almost overwhelmed him. Only when it shifted to compassion was he able to back away. As hard as he'd tried, he'd been unable to project his own feeling of confidence. It was a tough battle he was fighting, but he knew he'd win. He just wished his family had his faith.

He'd felt Ronnie's death. It hadn't come as a surprise. He knew the young man was going to die almost from the moment he saw him. AJ was only sorry that he hadn't lived long enough to see his innocence recognized. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

He fought his fear as each breath became more difficult. Despite the pounding in his head, he clung to his belief. He heard the distinctive sound of plastic being unfolded. Suddenly, it became easier to breathe. The pain lingered as if to warn him not to become too complacent.

After Amanda left, AJ thought he wanted to die. Now that he was actually face to face with the possibility, he realized how wrong he'd been to let his loss over-shadow the rest of his life. There were far worse things he could've lost. His mother and brother came instantly to mind. He finally had his priorities in order and he wanted to live. He had to live.

* * * *

The squad room was quiet this early in the morning. Time had lost all meaning for Rick. He'd tried to take a quick nap while waiting for Delaney and Blaine to arrive. Almost immediately, he'd entered a nightmare world where a nurse was pulling a sheet over a pale face. Only this time, the face was AJ's. Jerking awake, he'd rushed to the nearest coffee machine and downed two cups of its strongest brew. His need for sleep vanished with his anguish.

"We have the photograph," Blaine cheerfully declared, entering on the heels of her partner. "Rosemary was right. It's a tattoo of a fish."

Awakened by their noisy entrance, Town rose and peered over the detective's shoulder, "Mrs. Collier says her nephew, Frank has a fish tattoo."

"He also had an alibi," Delaney said, referring to her notes. "According to his mother, he never left the house that night."

Rick tossed the dredges of his last cup of coffee into a trash can. "I find it difficult to believe. How many twenty-two-year-old boys spend Saturday night with their mother?"

"Do you want to bring them in for questioning?" Blaine asked, moving to her desk to prepare the paper work they'd need to request a warrant.

"No," Rick decided, straightening his hat. "I think we'd have better luck confronting Frank on his own turf."

As he led the way from the squad room to the unmarked police car, Rick could hear the young detective arguing with her older, more experienced partner. An ironic smile curved his lips. If you lowered the tone of the voices, it could've been he and AJ disagreeing - as usual.

"We can't let him do this, Rosemary," Blaine protested.

"Do what?"

"You know he's not planning to just talk to that boy," Blaine accused. "It's against the law."

"Since when is talking against the law?" Delaney innocently demanded.

"I told you, he isn't going to just talk."

"I don't know that and neither do you."

"I can guess."

"We can only arrest a man for what he does." Rosemary touched her fingers to her temple. "Not for what he thinks."

"He could get suspended," Sheila desperately argued.

A sly smile played across pink lips, "Rick's a civilian. He can do things we can't."

The older detective's tacit support eased the tension that had twisted Rick's muscles into painful knots. One way or another, he would uncover the truth about that night. He was relieved that two people he'd come to respect wouldn't stand in his way. He would've hated like hell to hit a woman. He knew Town well enough to know that the San Diego Police Lieutenant would only interfere if Rick lost control. It helped immensely knowing he had such trust.

They drove through the increasing traffic to the outskirts of the city. Rick barely noticed when the tall buildings gradually became shorter, or that the streets had become dirtier. Blaine parked in front of a single-story duplex. One side of the small yard was neatly tended. A bed of flowers grew in one corner. The other was overgrown and neglected.

Delaney led the way up the communal sidewalk. To Rick's surprise, she approached the door connected with the flowers. Her knock was almost immediately answered by a plump, small woman with unfashionably long dark hair. She looked nothing like her sister.

Flashing her badge, Delaney prompted, "Do you remember us, Mrs. Dolan?"

"Yes, yes, of course," the woman nervously nodded. The fingers of her left hand played with her hair.

"These gentlemen are from San Diego." Rosemary gestured to each in turn, "This is Lieutenant Brown of the SDPD and this is Rick Simon. He's a private detective. It was his brother who was kidnapped in your nephews escape attempt."

Trying to pull the too tight uniform blouse over her hips, the woman defiantly demanded, "What does that have to do with me?"

Faces peered at them from behind dirty curtains. Drawing attention to their audience, Town suggested, "Why don't we continue this conversation inside? Away from prying eyes."

"I don't have to let you in," Mrs. Dolan protested, partially closing the door. "You gotta have a warrant."

"Yes Ma'am, we do," Delaney cheerfully acknowledged. "If you'd like, we could go back and get one. Let's see," the detective referred to her notes, "by the time it's ready, we'll find you serving lunch at the Ling Ling Restaurant on 63rd. Isn't that right?"

"All right," the older woman ungraciously conceded, stepping aside and opening the door wider. "Make it quick. I can't be late for work."

Though the room was neat and clean, the mismatched threadbare furniture spoke volumes. Rick had been in homes like this before. They were proud people who paid their own way. Once the bills were met however, there wasn't much left for amenities.

"Is Frank here, Mrs. Dolan?" Delaney asked, taking a seat on the couch. "We really need to talk to both of you."

"I'll wake him," Mrs. Dolan reluctantly agreed. Calling her son's name, she walked down a short hallway to the last door.

Blaine sat next to her partner, while Town took the more substantial of the two arm chairs. He sat gingerly, obviously fearful that it wouldn't hold his weight. Rick decided to remain standing. He didn't want to give Frank the slightest advantage.

"Now, what's this all about?" Mrs. Dolan demanded, returning to the living room with her son.

"Ronnie died last night," Delaney gently revealed.

There was no reaction from Frank. His mother flinched, but her voice remained unmoved as she exhorted, "What's that got to do with us?"

"Mr. Simon's brother made a promise to your nephew Randy. At their request, we've re-opened the investigation. New evidence links Frank with the robbery."

"I told you he was with me that night." Defiant eyes rested on each of the detectives in turn.

Her voice softening, Delaney pressed, "Mrs. Dolan, are you aware that you could go to jail for what you're doing?"

"I'm not doing anything," the older woman uneasily protested.

"I understand that you love your son and want to protect him, but this isn't the way to do it. It won't help him, if you go to jail too."

"Don't hurt my mother," Frank cried, stepping protectively in front of her. "I wasn't with her that night. I was with a friend."

"What friend, Frank?" Delaney pressed.

The curly head came up and the thin lips compressed into a thin line. It was an obvious sign that he was unwilling to co-operate further.

Taking a step closer to the young man, Rick growled, "Sgt. Delaney asked you what friend."

"None of your business," Frank sneered.

"Yes," Rick corrected, taking another step, "it is my business. My brother's sick and could die because of what happened that night. It's most definitely my business."

"What're you gonna do? Beat the answer out of me?"

"If I have to."

Pointing to the police detectives, Frank taunted, "They won't let you."

Delaney glanced at her watch. Rising to her feet, she said, "Sheila, I think we better check in with the station. Care to join us, Lt. Brown?"

"I think I will," Town agreed, rising.

"Hey," Frank anxiously protested, "you can't leave. He'll beat on me."

With a somber face, Rosemary pointed out, "If he does, you can press charges."

"I'll do it now."

"I'm not allowed to arrest a perpetrator," Delaney recited, "until after he commits the crime."

"That's crazy!" Frank's voice rose in desperation.

"Tell me about it," Delaney ironically agreed. Leaning over, she gently patted his arm, "Don't worry, we won't be gone long."

The three detectives had almost reached the door when Frank's frayed nerves finally snapped. "All right," he cried, "I was there that night. But, I didn't shoot that guy."

Before the boy could say anything more, Delaney quickly read him his rights. Nodding his understanding, he fell into the chair Town had recently vacated. In the past few minutes, he'd aged ten years.

"We know you weren't the shooter," Blaine gently soothed, returning to the coach and taking out her notebook. "Who did pull the trigger?"

"It was Ronnie."

Feeling as though someone had punched him in the stomach, Rick gasped, "It takes a real low life to accuse a dead man of murder."

"I'm not lying." Frank's earnest gaze rested on Blaine before shifting to Rick. "We'd go out whenever Ronnie felt bored."

"Mrs. Collier said she didn't allow her sons to associate with you after you joined a gang," Town contradicted, moving to stand next to his friend, lending him silent support.

"We did it behind her back."

"Tell us what happened that night, Frank," Blaine softly encouraged.

"Ronnie borrowed his brother's car . . ."

"You mean stole," Rick angrily amended.

"Well," Frank hesitantly agreed, "he didn't have permission, but he did have his own set of keys."

Even as her eyes shot daggers at Rick, Delaney's tone was conciliatory as she urged, "Go on, Frank."

"We didn't have any money and decided we better get some if we wanted to have any fun. I got Dad's old gun . . ."

His mother's strangled cry interrupted the boy a second time. "I didn't think you knew where I hid it."

"I found that out years ago," Frank guiltily confessed. "Ronnie didn't know much about guns. When he started to chicken out, I told him it wasn't loaded."

Exhaustion and confusion had replaced Rick's anger. "Why didn't you say something when Randy was arrested in your place?"

"I was waiting for Ronnie to snitch. I don't know why he didn't."

Now that he'd kept his promise, Rick was no longer interested in the confession. He waited impatiently while Delaney handcuffed the boy and Blaine called for backup. The mother's soft crying was a fitting background for his own emotions. Would there be anyone alive to care about the truths they'd uncovered this day?

* * * *

The same burly male nurse, who'd prevented Rick and Town's entrance in their first encounters, held the door open for them this time. Rick wasn't sure if that meant good news or bad waited within. The tears he saw on his mother's face made his legs buckle. Only a quick reaction from Town and the nurse kept him from crumbling to the floor.

"It's all right, Rick." His mother's soft hands gently caressed his cheeks, "AJ's fever broke. He's going to be fine."

With his friend's assistance, Rick stumbled to the bench and looked into his brother's room. Nothing appeared to have changed since his last visit. The oxygen tent still prevented him from clearly seeing the pale face, while IV's continued to drip their life giving contents into both arms of the motionless figure. There was nothing in the tableau to give him hope. "Are you sure AJ's all right, Mom?"

"I'm sure, Rick," Cecelia confidently nodded. "If you weren't so tired, you'd know it too."

Her image blurred as tears filled Rick's eyes. It was difficult to swallow around the lump in his throat. His left hand squeezed Town's arm as his right pulled his mother to his chest. As he hugged her close, he buried his face in her hair and let the tears fall. With their release went his despair. He had his brother back. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else had ever mattered.

* * * *

As he carefully shifted his aching body in the narrow hospital bed, AJ knew he was lucky to be alive. Ronnie Collier hadn't been so fortunate. Soon after awakening he'd learned that Randy had also survived. The younger man's good fortune had been tainted by his little brother's death. Even the news that his innocence had been confirmed hadn't eased his pain. It had been decided that they should wait until the boy was stronger before revealing Ronnie's duplicity.

AJ shifted again. The movement threatened to dislodge his hand from his mother's fierce grip. Both of Cecelia's hands engulfed one of AJ's. It had been like this every time she came to visit. It was as though she were trying to imbue some of her own strength into her frail son.

"I don't understand," she said, as Rick finished detailing the investigation. "Why didn't Ronnie clear Randy? Didn't he have more loyalty to his brother than his cousin?"

"I'm afraid those are questions we'll never have answers for," Rick unhappily acknowledged, turning a chair around and straddling it.

"I think I know why Ronnie kept quiet," AJ declared, his eyes on his brother. "He was scared."

"Any sane man would be scared if he was going to jail," Rick declared, resting his head on his arms. Though he'd finally gotten eight straight hours of sleep, he still looked tired.

"It isn't prison that frightened him," AJ quickly countered, "It was the realization that he'd be alone."

"Frank would've been sentenced too," Cecelia protested. "Ronnie wouldn't have been alone."

AJ quietly pointed out, "Frank wasn't his brother."

"Of course," Rick said, raising his head as understanding dawned. "He needed Randy."

"How could he be so selfish?" Cecelia demanded, squeezing AJ's hand.

"If he'd told Randy what he'd done," AJ thoughtfully reflected, "none of this would've happened."

"They never would've tried to escape," Rick agreed, resting his head back on his hands.

Cecelia's gaze shifted between the earnest faces of her sons, "You're not making any sense. Randy was innocent. Once Ronnie revealed the truth, he would've gone free."

"Randy would never have let anyone know he was innocent." The conversation taking its toll on his meager strength, AJ briefly closed his eyes, "He would've served the sentence."

"Why?"

One of Rick's hands snaked out to rest on AJ's arm. "Because Ronnie was his little brother and Ronnie needed him."

"They needed each other," AJ softly corrected.


End file.
